To raise a rebel
by Twoformemories
Summary: Turkey takes young Greece from his older brother and forces him into his home.
1. Chapter 1

Sadiq marched through the halls. Marble floors and soaring pillars surrounded him. Grin widening under his mask, he took in his surroundings. Even the scarlet stains on the polished marble did not break his smile. If anything, they made him grin wider.

Pausing in the empty hallway Sadiq cocked his head at the noises coming from the streets below. The screams and clash of arms sounded outside and reverberated in the emptiness. Spinning on his heel, his white robes fluttering about him, he gave a loud raucous laugh. His laugh joined the screams of the dying and the sound of battle, adding his personal and particular flavour to the carnage outside, instead of just his national one.

Chuckling and wiping a tear from underneath his mask, Sadiq snapped his fingers and several Turkish soldiers stationed at the doors rushed to join their master. Striding forward he paused in front of a pair of giant double doors. Turkey gestured towards the door, causing the soldiers to rush forward. Eager to please this clearly high ranking individual (as to how high they may never know), they grasped the handles and slowly pulled the bulky doors apart.

Sadiq stood, hands clasped behind his back as the doors groaned open, seeming as though they wished to refuse access to the invaders, but open they did to reveal two individuals. One was a battered and tired looking man with cuts and bruises all over his exposed skin. He wore Roman stylised armour, had brown hair and was hugging a young boy around eight years old. The boy was hugging him back and clasped the man all the harder when he heard the door open.

Sadiq smiled wider and approached the pair; it was not a pleasant smile to see. Finally the man in armour looked up and grimaced. Attempting to stand he collapsed onto his knees instead, coughing harshly and leaning on the boy.

Sadiq stopped several feet away from the pair. "And so we come to the end of our game, I hope you learned as much as I did from this little..." Sadiq searched for the proper word but couldn't find one that fit, so instead merely resumed grinning and awaited a reply from the battered man.

The man seemed about to speak but instead merely coughed up blood. Sadiq waited patiently until he finished. Finally the armoured man spoke, though the effort clearly strained him.

"Finding great pleasure in this, *cough* aren't you, Turkey." Sadiq cocked his eyebrow at the man, letting his smile drop. Using the name of his nation instead of his human name, Sadiq couldn't really blame him. The time they had been friends had been long ago.

"Of course, it took a great deal of effort to conquer your former empire, but then, no empire reigns forever," he pointed at the bleeding man, "Byzantium." Sadiq grinned widely, relishing how the former empire flinched at his words.

"A lesson you would *Cough hack* do well to remember as well." Sadiqs lips twitched slightly at Byzantium's words. Dammit, he was better than that. Never show weakness, never.

"Listen to the final cries of your empire." Sadiq shouted, pretending he hadn't heard his nemesis, turning away from the two and facing a window. Screams and smoke wafted up past the opening, along with the smell of blood which permeated the air. "The end is nigh."

"What more do you want." Byzantium croaked, his voice harsh. The young boy clutched at the former empire harder as though the dying man could make it all the bad things go away. How the innocence of youth shatters, mused Turkey.

"Well, in addition to the satisfaction of watching you finally fall," Sadiq turned to the former superpower, pointing at the boy. "I want the rest of Greece." The boy cried out in fear and buried his head in Byzantium's chest. The fallen empire put his arm about young Greece and gave a strangled sob of sadness and defeat.

Sadiq watched it all, his smile turned to a sneer at the display of emotion from the two. Too much like his brother,Sadiq thought, referring to Byzantium's brother Rome. That's why he fell. I shall not make the same mistake. Sadiq stood impassively as Byzantium whispered comfortingly while he detached the child from himself and pushed young Greece away.

"A last request *cough hack* if I might" Byzantium whispered so softly that Sadiq had to lean forward to hear, "Sadiq." He started at that. This was a personal request then. He quirked an eyebrow, glad for the cover of the mask, it would not do to show his interest.

Musing over it for a moment, Sadiq stroked his chin as he answered. "Very well, ask and we shall see." Sadiq had already resolved to grant it if he had the ability. He owed his old mentor and friend, now nemesis, that much at least.

"Don't let the child see." Byzantium coughed up some more blood. Sadiq smiled softly, lowering his head to hide his expression within the shadows cast by his hat and mask. Soft, but an appropriate request considering the current state of affairs, Sadiq thought. He was glad the old man did not try to beg for his life. He would have lost all respect for the empire and despite the circumstances, he would have hated that.

"Very well then" Sadiq snapped his fingers to gain the attention of the Turkish soldiers gathered outside the door, "Take the boy." He indicated towards young Greece. The soldiers rushed forwards and grabbed Greece, dragging him outside the door while Sadiq drew his scimitar. A cry came from the throat of the young nation. "Hold him, hold him blast you or ill paint the walls with your blood!" Sadiq shouted angrily at the soldiers, he would not deny this last request because of the idiocy of these grunts. Sadiq pointed them further down the hall. When the child's screams were softened by the distance between them, Sadiq turned back to Byzantium who leaned against the far wall, wincing in pain.

"Thank you *cough* for sparing him this." Byzantium muttered through lips coated with dried blood. Sadiq shifted somewhat in embarrassment.

"It would hardly do for us to start our relationship with the sight of me killing his former guardian."

"Nevertheless, thank you." Byzantium slumped further against the wall, head lolling to the side and smiling softly. Sadiq approached until he stood directly in front of the soon to be former nation. He drew his arm and sword back.

"Farewell." Sadiq said softly and stabbed forward, piercing the Byzantine Empires heart in one smooth blow. The old man gasped in pain but only for a moment. He did not last any longer than that as Sadiq pulled his blade out quickly afterwards. Sadiq stared at the dead nation for a few moments, contemplating the stream of blood coming from the fatal wound he had inflicted. Stepping forward, he closed Byzantium's eyes and removed his cape before placing it over the corpse. An expression of regret was swiftly displaced by his usual smile as he turned away. The white mask covering his eyes was not the only one he wore at this moment. No matter how Sadiq felt himself, he was the Ottoman Empire, and he did what he had to do. Wiping his blade clean on a handkerchief he had brought with him, Sadiq exited the room without looking back and approached the Turkish soldiers.

"Ah, the little bastard bit me!" One of the soldiers shouted, wringing his hand. The complaining soldier promptly backhanded the young nation. Sadiq's eye twitched, though his mask hid it. He had not spared the child the death of his former guardian to have him beaten by the rank and file. Sadiq approached the soldier and stood behind him.

"I said hold him, not strike him." Sadiq shouted at the offending Turk, anger an almost tangible presence around him. The man spun around and was promptly impaled upon Sadiq's blade. The man opened his mouth to scream but only gaped, no words coming out and he promptly slumped, dead.

Pulling the blade free, Sadiq watched as the man fell to the ground. Casually wiping the scimitar on the soldiers' clothes, all the while ignoring the shocked looks of the other Turks and young Greece, he examined the blade. Looking up after ensuring the blade was cleaned, Turkey grabbed the Greek from the petrified soldiers. Sadiq strode out of the blood stained hall, dragging the squirming young nation behind him and into the death choked streets of Constantinople, now Istanbul.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two, I had some reviews requesting more chapters and I figured it may be an interesting topic to follow. Reviews are always helpful.**

Sadiq reclined in his chair. The room he sat in was elaborate, this being his private study. Treasures from across his empire surrounded him such as paintings, stained glass windows and gold. So much gold it would blind someone if the sunlight hit it correctly (incidentally the room was empty from noon to 3 pm). Rare books lined the bookcases, though a layer of dust had begun to collect on them. However, all of these treasures and glory surrounding him was not what held Turkeys interest at the moment. Rather, it was the young nation sitting on the floor and staring at him with hate filled eyes which held Sadiq's attention.

Turkey growled low. It had been this way ever since he had Taken Greece from Byzantium. The boy just stared with those green eyes, never speaking. Arriving at his house several hours ago, Sadiq had gone straight to his study, dragging the young nation behind him. Now that he had him, Sadiq had to decide what to do with the child. Hidden behind his mask, he furrowed his brows in thought on how to proceed. The boy only stared.

"Will you stop staring at me like that, you're giving me a headache." Sadiq snapped irritably.

"You killed papa." The young Greek said morosely, still staring at the empire. Sadiq's eye twitched slightly and he merely nodded, glad for the mask hiding the regret in his eyes.

"I did, and I would do so again." Sadiq answered evenly, ensuring he kept the quiver from his voice. He grinned slightly at the expression of shock from Greece. He was making some progress at least.

"You bastard!" Then again, maybe not. Greece jumped to his feet and dashed forward, hamming his fists uselessly against Sadiq in impotent rage. Sighing in irritation he kicked the young nation away. Skidding against the floor Greece lay sobbing on a carpet spread across the center of the room. Sadiq sighed again and rose to his feet, marching towards the sprawled child. Picking him up by the collar of his ill fitting shirt he turned the child's head towards him with his other hand, forcing Greece to stare into his eyes.

He saw hatred in those small green eyes, but there was something else. Buried behind the hatred, Turkey saw the first inklings of real fear. Sadiq smiled unpleasantly, fear was an emotion he knew how to work with.

"What is your name." Sadiq snarled at the boy.

"What?" The boy replied, confusion written on his face. This was clearly not the question the Greek had expected from the empire holding him.

"Your name," Sadiq shouted, losing patience, "what is it." He shook the boy once for good measure.

"Heracles." The boy sobbed, tears beginning to form in his eyes. Sadiq smiled, now he was making real progress. He quickly lost his smile however, frowning distractedly instead. Was this all that he wanted from the child, fear? Or did he want what Byzantine had had, love from this younger nation.

Sadiqs thoughts were interrupted when he felt a sharp pain in his hand that had been holding the young nations head. Heracles had bit him. Growling in fury he flung the child into the wall, cracking the sturdy structure. Breathing heavily in barely suppressed rage, Sadiq stared at the crumpled form of Heracles. He was not moving but Sadiq knew he was not dead. It would take more to kill a nation. Sadiq pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to calm himself. Something about this child just made him lose all control. Sadiq despised not being in control. Perhaps that was what he found so irritating, he mused.

After eventually calming down he returned his gaze to the unconscious nation. Sighing, he shook his head. Young Heracles was still not moving so Sadiq approached calmly, stopping once he stood over Greece. Looking down his chest tightened. This was not starting out well. Bending over he picked up the unconscious form, cradling the young man to his chest. Looking down into the young nations face Sadiq smiled softly. Heracles looked so peaceful and calm. After quickly checking to ensure nothing was broken he shook his head in irritation. He doubted he could force the child to like him.

Grimacing, Sadiq realized that a different tact may be needed. Turning he strode out of his study, cradling the unconscious nation in his arms. As he walked down the halls of his elaborate palace, gold inlaid carvings gracing the walls while paintings which told tales from the Koran decorated the ceiling, he contemplated his problem. Heracles was not like him, that much was certain. Too much time sheltered by Byzantium he supposed.

"What would you have done old friend." Sadiq murmured to himself, looking at the form he carried. The child reminded him much of Byzantium therefore, maybe something he would have done for Byzantium while they were friends would be appropriate. Turkey brightened at the thought, there may be hope yet. Stopping at one of the guestrooms he nudged the door open and laid Heracles on the bed.

Scratching the back of his head, Turkey strode out of the room. Now all he had to do was think of an appropriate gift.

Heracles awakened on a bed. It was soft and expansive, though he found he couldn't appreciate this as his entire body was sore and in pain. Wincing he propped himself up on his arms and closed his eyes as jolts of pain lanced through him with every movement.

"Mrrrow." Heracles opened his eyes wide, seeing a small ball of fur sitting at the foot of his bed. Purring, the kitten wandered over and lay down on Heracles's lap. Smiling, the young Greek glanced around to see where the kitten had come from.

During his examination from his bed he saw a pair of yellow eyes underneath a cloth hat looking at him over the edge of the bed. It was boy, but Heracles got the same feeling he had from both Byzantine and Turkey when he looked at him. Another nation then, Heracles thought to himself. Seeming to be about the same age as him, small tufts of brown hair poked out from underneath his hat, the boy stared at Heracles. After staring at each other for a few moments longer, Heracles spoke.

"Who are you?" Heracles asked quizzicly. The yellow eyed figure merely continued to stare at him.

"Did you leave the kitten here?" Heracles asked instead, gesturing towards the curled form on him. The yellow eyed child merely shook his head in the negative and resumed staring. Heracles raised one eyebrow.

"Who did?" Heracles asked after another moment of staring. The other child pointed at the door and softly uttered a single word.

"Sadiq." Following that, the yellow eyed boy walked towards the exit, a black dog with a gold collar previously hidden by the bed followed the strange boy. The boy closed the door behind him. Heracles stared at the door for a few minutes, mulling over this development. Looking back to the cat he began to pet the small ball of fur, a content look on his face.

**Author: Ok, introduced Turkeys home and a new character. The house is where the majority of the story is going to take place. Who could this yellow eyed boy be?**

**Turkey: Is it Egypt?**

**Author: ... Shut up.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I wanted to add more of the Middle East nations, but then I realized that I would have to make up character references and stuff for them. After mulling it over I decided to mainly focus on these three characters instead and make only passing references to the others because middle east politics and nationalities were seriously f***** up at the time. I don't own APH, just this story.**

It has been three days. Three days since Sadiq had put young Heracles in his room and the nation had not emerged. After asking Gupta what was wrong with the Greek he had received a short, though apt, reply. "Sad." Suffice it to say that this did not help Sadiq very much.

After thinking about what the next step should entail, Sadiq decided he would need to draw out the young nation from his room. This had been, of course, plan G. Plan A through F had involved things like the breaking of the door down or similar violent acts. This had not been successful with their first meeting, so Sadiq had resolved to simply not feed the boy until he came out of his room. After the third day of this his patience was wearing thin indeed.

Sadiq knocked loudly, but not harshly, on the door Heracles had hidden himself behind. "Heracles," Sadiq said firmly, "come out of your room, I want to talk to you."

"Go away." Heracles replied, though slightly muffled. Sadiq frowned to himself at that. How dare he speak that way to him. Talking a deep breath to calm him, Sadiq tried again.

"I have some yummy food for you and you're kitty." Sadiq tried again, this time sweetly to try and coax the boy out. There was no reply from the room. "I know you're mad, but let's try and talk about this." After waiting a full minute for a reply Sadiq began to lose his temper. That was when he felt a small hand grasp his own. Looking down he saw Egypt, better known as Gupta, standing beside him. Struck by inspiration Sadiq tried again.

"Don't you want to play with Gupta? He seems to miss you." To be honest Sadiq didn't know how the hell Gupta felt due to the seeming lack of facial expressions and speaking the boy did. Nevertheless the fact that Gupta did not correct him was somewhat reassuring. There was no answer for a minute.

"I want to see Gupta," came the reply from behind the door causing Sadiq to smile, feeling his rage begin to ebb away, "but you leave." That tore it; back to plan A. Sadiq yanked his hand out from Gupta's and kicked the door in. Ignoring the Egyptian boy's stunned look he marched towards the bed and tore the sheets off revealing a huddled Heracles. The Greek took one look at Sadiq's snarling visage and covered his head. Grabbing the boy he dragged him out into the hall and dropped him by Gupta.

"You don't want to open the door to see me fine." Sadiq shouted marching back to the doorframe. "I won't give you a choice." Sadiq grasped the door and tore it from its hinges. Marching towards a nearby window he flung the door out, not bothering to see where it landed and ignoring the shattering glass. Turning back to the two boys he pointed out the window. "Let's see you lock yourself up now." After shooting a furious glare at the shocked pair (Heracles having a few tears in his eyes and mouth wide open while Gupta had merely slightly widened his eyes) Sadiq turned and stormed down the hall, ignoring the sobs coming from where he had left the two.

Slamming the door to his study he slumped into his chair breathing heavily. Damning the stubborn child, he realized he may have over reacted a tad. Still sitting in his chair, Sadiq pondered what to do now.

Heracles sat on the polished floor softly sobbing. Gupta stared at the direction Sadiq had stormed off in a few moments longer before crouching down and putting his hand on Heracles' arm. Feeling the boy stiffen at the unexpected contact, Gupta merely waited until Heracles had stopped crying before removing his hand. Heracles turned his face up to Gupta, his red rimmed eyes still holding the last vestiges of his tears until Gupta, using the hem of his white robe, wiped them away.

"Hungry?" Was the simple question Gupta asked his new brother. Heracles stared at Gupta for a moment and then nodded. Inclining his head in the direction opposite that Sadiq had left; Gupta helped the Greek boy to his feet.

After gazing down the hall for a few moments Heracles looked into his room, there no longer being a door to block his view, and started in that direction. Rushing into the room, he scooped the kitten into his arms and exited to follow Gupta down the hallway.

Sadiq paced his study, head bowed and brow furrowed in concentration (though his mask hid his brow). Several books lay open on his desk. One was a map of Greek history, another Greek geography and several more on the subject of Greek military accomplishments and one with some very (Very!) graphic images. After spending nearly an hour examining these books, Sadiq had realized that they were all on ancient Greece. He had also realized that they had nothing to do with how to deal with unruly Greek children and so were irrelevant to his current situation.

Collapsing in his chair, Sadiq stroked his chin, trying to figure out what he was going to do about his current predicament. Coercion had failed, as had threats and violence. Sadiq did not have a lot remaining in his repertoire of 'how to deal with others.'

Deciding that he may as well get something to eat in order to accomplish something at least, he rose from his chair and left his study to head to the kitchens. Striding down the halls, all the while radiating an aura of quiet strength and confidence, Sadiq reached the kitchen. He threw open the doors and froze, his eyes wide.

Inside of the kitchen, a laughing Heracles and a stoic Gupta, with the barest traces of a smile, were in the process of trying to make some dough and failing miserably. Covered in flour and batter, both were desperately trying to mix the batter in a bowl with two wooden spoons, but only succeeding in covering themselves, the cat and Gupta's dog in the sticky substance.

Sadiq continued to stare, transfixed by the sudden change in attitude from the Greek and the camaraderie the Egyptian was displaying. After a moment however, perhaps sensing his presence, Gupta glanced up and dropped his spoon adopting a rigid stance. After glancing at his friend's now neutral expression, Heracles glanced in the direction of Gupta's gaze and promptly dropped his own spoon in shock. Feeling somewhat abashed at the mess he now realized he had made, Heracles glanced down sheepishly. Sadiq, on the other hand, merely continued to stare at the two. After another minute of staring, Gupta lightly coughed, breaking Sadiq from his trance.

"To your rooms, now," Sadiq said tightly, "I will deal with you both later." Both boys scrambled past the Turk, shooting each other glances as they sped down the hall, their respective pets dashing after them.

Once the two boys had gone Sadiq stared at the mess. On the one hand, they had practically destroyed his kitchen in possibly a juvenile act of defiance. On the other hand, they both had acted relatively amicably to each other which may work towards Sadiq winning Heracles over.

Mulling over these two facts Sadiq began to stroke his chin in thought. Should they be punished or praised? That was the question which Sadiq focused on. Though punishment must be served, to destroy the twos blossoming friendship would be a bad idea. Sighing, Sadiq turned and left the kitchen in order to find a servant to clean the mess, keeping the question of what to do to the boys in the forefront of his mind.

Sitting on his bed, Heracles petted his cat absentmindedly. He regretted convincing Gupta to help him make something to eat instead of just finding something premade. The thought that he may have gotten his friend into trouble with the terrifying man who had taken him to this place paled in comparison to anything the Turk may do to him personally. Strengthening his resolve, Heracles stood and, holding his cat close, left his room and marched over to where he knew Sadiq would be.

Heracles stood outside of the menacing door. Behind it, he heard muffled muttering. Recognizing Turkey's voice, Heracles steeled himself and knocked on the door. The muttering ceased and the young nation heard only silence for a moment. Heracles knocked, a little firmer, on the door a second time.

"You may enter." The Turks booming voice answered the second knock. Gathering his courage, Heracles opened the door. Sadiq sat in his chair, hands on the armrests and back straight with his hat and robes immaculate looking every inch the empire he was. Heracles faltered when, in an attempt to shift his gaze away from the object of his fears he was only reminded of them when he spotted the cracks in the wall near where he stood. "What do you want?" Sadiq queried in his most commanding voice, making sure he controlled the situation from the start. Though surprised the boy would come to him, he would never show it in his voice or his face.

"Mister Turkey."

"Speak up, what do you want." Sadiq asked again, maintaining his commanding ring in his voice. This was made difficult by the excitement he felt at the other nation coming to him on his own.

"It wasn't Gupta's fault." Heracles blurted out. Sadiq raised an eyebrow at that, though his mask hid the movement.

"It was my fault, I talked Gupta into trying to bake something, I accidentally spilled the flour, I-"

"Be silent." Sadiq shouted at the boy, interrupting him. Rising from his chair, Sadiq began to pace around the child, who merely kept his eyes on the floor. "I know it was your fault. Gupta would never do anything so foolish. Nevertheless, I still have to punish you." Sadiq added, stopping his pacing when he was behind the Greek, enjoying the boy's discomfort.

"Perhaps I should take your cat away."

"No." Heracles squeaked. Sadiq grinned widely. His gift to the boy had grown unexpected fruit; Sadiq now had leverage over the Greek. Squatting behind Heracles, Sadiq put his hands on the Greeks shoulders, feeling the boy stiffen. Smiling at this, Sadiq leaned forward and whispered into the young nation's ear.

"Very well then. I won't punish you, but I do expect you to open the door when I come to see you. Also, you may continue to see Gupta," hopefully the boy's obedience would rub off on him, "but I want you to keep in mind that it is because I allow it." Heracles said nothing for several seconds.

"Answer me!" Sadiq shouted into the Greeks face, finally losing patience with the silence. Heracles jumped at the loud sound and harsh tone.

"Yes mister Turkey." He cried out in fear.

"Good." Sadiq nodded to the boy. Standing, the Turk strode back to his chair and sat down. "You may leave." Sadiq said casually, waving towards the door. He watched as the young nation rose to his feet and marched out the door, back held straight and chin lifted in defiance. Once Heracles had exited the room he heard the boy begin to run down the hall.

Only then, once the footsteps faded, did Sadiq let himself frown. Did he make the right decision in making the... threat? Could he have done that better if he had been more... compassionate?

Sadiq immediately dismissed the thought. Byzantine had been soft on Heracles and look what happened. Sadiq would let the boys foster a friendship, after all, in the end they would need allies, but above all he needed to be tough on them. He would give Heracles a new door, later. Heracles needed to be taught his lesson after all. At the very least, he had made some real progress with young Greece but still, the boy seemed to be able to inherently infuriate Sadiq. He would need to work on that. Doors and windows were expensive after all.

**Alright, I honestly don't know where I'm going here. I have a general idea of what I want but I'm letting it flow more or less like a day to day thing. As for updating? I do it randomly if something strikes me as a good idea for a chapter. FYI, I changed the title from Turkey and Greece because, it was a horribly bad title. Please review, it helps me update.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here it is the next chapter. Read and review please, new character, yay.**

Sadiq's house was haunted. Or, at least, Heracles suspected it was. Every now and then, while walking down the halls he would feel someone watching him. Turning around he saw nothing, but the feeling remained. Sometimes, Heracles could hear the pattering of feet on the floor, yet no one was ever around.

Suspecting Turkey was stalking him, he decided to spy on the older nation. Turkey took his door away again after finding the younger nation hiding in his bathroom. This caused Heracles to suspect a ghost even more as the next night, he saw a brown haired teenager standing outside his door frame until he blinked and the boy was gone. In the morning, he decided to confide in Gupta about his concerns. They were on the lawn in front of Turkey's house sitting right in front of the wall surrounding the home when Heracles asked him.

"Gupta," Heracles asked, turning to his friend, "have you noticed a ghost wandering around." Gupta raised one eyebrow at his proclamation. Sitting up he leaned over and put his palm to the Greeks forehead. "I'm not sick. Anyway, I feel like I'm being watched all the time, I hear footsteps, and a few days ago I saw a brown haired, brown eyed person standing in my doorframe." Gupta raised his other eyebrow in surprise. Heracles shifted slightly in embarrassment. "Ya, Turkey took my door away again." He muttered sheepishly. Gupta stared at The Greek for a moment longer before turning away.

"Bulgaria." Gupta stated softly. Heracles glanced at Gupta in shock.

"Bulgaria, as in the country. So it's not a ghost, wait when did he get here." Heracles stated in shock sitting up abruptly, being slapped accidentally by Gupta's retracting hand. Heracles was surprised he had not noticed a new resident before and also that he had just slapped himself with someone else's hand.

"Before you." Gupta said monotonously. Heracles stared at Gupta for another minute before reclining back on the grass.

"How come I've never seen him before?" Heracles asked quizzically, glancing back to Gupta.

"He runs." Gupta told him. At this, Heracles furrowed his brow in concentration, trying to decipher what Gupta meant. Then he remembered how he would see Sadiq walk out the front door, carrying a weighted net and a whip with a scowl on his face. Heracles stared at the sky, his mouth slightly agape as he realized the purpose of the two implements. Shuddering, the Greek stared at the wall opposite where he was sitting, thinking about this new revelation.

"Why don't you hang out with him?" The Greek asked of the other boy curiously, then mentally slapping himself for asking such a question. Gupta shifted somewhat.

"He doesn't like me." Gupta answered softly.

"Where in Allah's name are all of my paints!" Sadiq shouted from inside the house. Heracles imagined the rage and fury painted on the Turkish man's face, or at least the part he could see. Resolving to avoid Turkey as long as he could he, he began putting his boots back on. Staring at the wall across from his seat, Heracles examined the mural he and Gupta had painted earlier.

"We should really go hide now." Heracles stated, standing up followed by a nodding Gupta. The Egyptian took off into the house, followed by Heracles as they heard the thudding footsteps of Sadiq coming around the corner of the house.

Sadiq walked around the corner and paused, staring at the mural on the perimeter wall, depicting about twenty cats and a jackal playing in the sun.

"I hate children." Sadiq grumbled, turning around and going back into the house to find the two rebellious children who had defaced his wall.

Heracles ripped down the halls, his booted feet making a loud clacking sound on the tiled floor before ducking into a nearby guest room and yanking the door closed. He has split up from Gupta shortly after arriving in the house. Panting, he turned around to examine his hiding place and nearly screamed in shock. Standing behind him was the boy that had been standing outside his room the night before. Brown eyes stared into the Greeks green and his found his mouth covered by the brown haired boys hand and shoved into the wall.

"Be quiet," the other boy hissed, "he's coming." Heracles was about to bite down on the other boys hand and make his escape when he heard the telltale stomping of Sadiq marching down the halls. The heat in the room seemed to rise a few degrees from the Turks fury as the shadow under the door paused for a second, before continuing on. After another minute of silence the other boy released Heracles and removed his hand from Greeks mouth. Slumping against the wall beside him, the Bulgarian slid down the wall until he was sitting. After reassuring him the other wouldn't do anything threatening, Heracles joined him. The other boy glanced at him and stared at the opposite wall.

"So, who did he take you from?" The Bulgarian asked casually. Heracles looked away from the other boy.

"Byzantium." Heracles stated softly, feeling a tear slide down his cheek. Suddenly he found the other boys hands around his shirt front, gripping it harshly and lifting the Greek up.

"You came from him, did you know him well." Bulgaria asked frantically. Heracles was startled into silence and could only stutter at the other boy's frantic pleas. Shocked that the mention of his former caretaker could elicit such a response from his companion, Heracles was unsure how to respond.

"He was my big brother." Heracles finally managed to blurt out. The other boy stopped shaking him immediately after that, collapsing next to Heracles and leaning his head up against the wall.

"I miss him, a lot." Bulgaria stated morosely after a short silence.

"Me too." Heracles told him sadly, holding back the tears that so desperately wanted to let pour down his face. Bulgaria stared at his new found brother, disturbed by his distress. Jumping to his feet, Bulgaria grabbed the Greek by the arm and hauled him to his feet.

"Come with me." The other nation stated, dragging Heracles towards the door. Startled by the sudden movement, Heracles stumbled before finding his footing and following the other boy out the door.

Heracles and Bulgaria stood on a small cliff near the sea. They had not stopped running for at least five hours after leaving the house, finally arriving at a small cairn of stones near a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Both boys stood there, staring at the rise of stones in silence.

"This is where he's buried." Bulgaria stated solemnly. Tears rolling down his cheeks and soaking the ground, he stared at the solemn monument. Heracles hadn't said anything since they had arrived. "Turkey buried him here, I followed him that day." Bulgaria continued.

"Thank you." Heracles said softly, permitting himself to cry. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Would you like to head back now?" Bulgaria asked, glancing at the other boy.

"No, no. I want to stay at least a little while longer." Heracles said softly, sinking to his knees before the grave. Bulgaria nodded slightly. They both stayed there until they fell asleep, curled together in front of their older brother's grave.

Sadiq stood beside a lone tree a short distance from the grave. After discovering both Greece and Bulgaria missing, he had assumed they would come here. He had been correct. Sadiq approached the two sleeping boys at a slow pace until he stood before them. The Turk stared at them for awhile before slowly reaching up and removing his mask. His brown eyes regarded the sleeping forms, and then rose to stare at the stone cairn.

"You would be proud of them." Sadiq said softly, allowing a single tear to roll down from his eye. Quickly wiping his tear away he placed the mask back on his face. Leaning down, he picked up the two sleeping nations before departing back towards his house, cradling both boys in his arms.

**Wow, it took forever to think up what to do for the next chapter. I considered using Cyprus but couldn't find much information on him as a character in Hetalia, then I read about how Bulgaria was conquered before Constantinople and the Byzantine Empire fell, though he was a part of it. So I decided to use him instead. I don't think he'll have much of a role from now on.**


	5. Chapter 5

** Thank you Frost E. Winters for your recommendation, here's what you wanted. Hope you all enjoy, I know I did. I don't own Hetalia or the characters.**

The day had not gone as expected. Heracles and Gupta had intended to do what they did every day since Sadiq had shouted to them that he was going out and left them alone. They played, tried to make some food and destroyed something that seemed to have value. Both Heracles and Gupta looked to be in their early teens now, though they still wore the same styled clothes they wore before as neither had wanted to wear the kind of clothes Sadiq wore (though Gupta was pushing the bar a bit with his white robes). They had grown up a bit while under Sadiq's care, though neither would admit it. Still, the last thing they expected to hear as they tried to sweep the remains of a broken vase under the carpet in the hall was the slamming of the front doors when they were violently kicked open.

With a crashing boom both boys turned abruptly to confront a slightly limping Sadiq dragging a young man with long hair beside him. Though they had not seen Sadiq in a long while, both boys' eyes were riveted to the unconscious figure. He appeared to be in his mid teens, though all the dirt and blood made it difficult to tell. He wore small but fitting plate armour, though it was missing a fair few pieces, and had blonde hair. Watching with wide eyes, both boys turned to observe the masked visage of Sadiq glance to and fro, until landing on them both. Marching towards them (though slightly limping still) Sadiq threw the unconscious young boy into Heracles, almost bowling the Greek over.

"Clean him up, and make him presentable!" Turkey shouted at the two boys. Turning away from the wide eyed boys Sadiq marched away and towards his study. Both boys turned their eyes from the retreating Turk and regarded the new boy with interest. Heracles turned to Gupta and broke the silence.

"Where do you think he came from?" Gupta just shrugged in answer. Heracles bent over the unconscious figure before grabbing him beneath his pits. "Grab his legs, let's hurry and take him to the bathroom. Get him cleaned up." Gupta nodded and rushed to assist his friend.

Sadiq threw the door to his study open and locked the door. Rushing to his chair he collapsed into it and gave a strangled gasp of pain.

"Blasted boy," he remarked, lifting his pant leg to observe the slowly bleeding hole in his leg, "little albino bastard got his licks in before I could snatch his friend." He gently prodded the flesh, hissing in pain. It was a deep wound but the success of his latest venture more than outweighed the cost. He gently wrapped his leg in some bandages he had nearby after spreading some alcohol to clean the wound, sighing in relief once the task was complete.

Sadiq's thoughts returned to the small albino with red eyes who had stabbed him in the leg before he was able to make good his escape with his newest prize. Little bugger was a fighter but the Turk had gotten what he had wanted, remembering having to lay the albinos friend low with a blow from the pommel of his blade. Just as he had been about to depart the albino had thrust his dagger like blade into Sadiq's leg, forcing him to limp back to his home in pain. He grimaced at the memory.

"I wonder how those two are doing with my newest conquest." Sadiq murmured to himself before he passed out from exhaustion and blood loss.

"Dammit Gupta it's almost as though you're not helping at all." Gupta growled at this as Heracles and he continued to try and figure out how to remove the battered armour covering the boy. They were crouched over the unconscious boy in the bathroom, a tub filled with hot water behind them. "Maybe if we pried off this shoulder thing we could get at the chest part."

"We need a hammer for this." Gupta muttered darkly as he tried to untie a leather knot near the shoulder plate.

"What if we start at the back, maybe there are instructions or something." Gupta stared at the other boy, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Heracles lowered his eyes sheepishly. "I mean, if they did that's where it would be." Gupta sighed but flipped the boy over anyway.

"Straps are back here." He stated.

"Really? Hurry up, if they're tied that means they're used for something right?" Gupta shrugged but helped him begin untying the knots. It took some time (and a considerable amount of swearing) but they finally managed to remove the armour from the boy. Gupta sighed, looking at the boy on the floor, still dressed in a linen shirt and trousers.

"Almost done." Gupta stated, looking from the boy to the rapidly cooling bathwater. Heracles nodded and began removing the boy's shirt while Gupta unbuckled the boy's pants. Heracles glanced up as Gupta's eyes widened in shock and jumped back from the prone boy, face flushed a bright red which contrasted greatly with his regular skin colour. Heracles smirked at him.

"What's wrong, never seen one before." Heracles asked chuckling to himself as he realized where Gupta had been looking.

"No." Gupta sputtered. The young Greek looked at him, puzzled, before leaning forward himself, and jumping back twice as quickly.

"Oh. My. God." Heracles stated. Gupta only nodded at him. "Turkey castrated him!" Gupta stared at his clueless friend before face palming himself. "What?" Heracles asked confused.

"Idiot she's a girl." Gupta shouted at Heracles who stared blankly at his friend before covering his mouth with his hand and his own face glowing red. Unfortunately, it was that time that the girl decided to wake up.

"Ahhhhhh." She shouted in fury and surprise, shooting to her feet and reaching for her blade which she no longer wore. Realizing this she swung her fist, connecting with Gupta's jaw and sending the Egyptian crashing to the floor. Turning to the Greek she grabbed his collar and shook him. "Where am I, who are you, what am I doing here." She demanded in a furious voice. Heracles could only stare at her until she shook him again.

"You're a girl." He suddenly blurted out. She stared at the Greek for a moment before shaking him again. "Answer the questions."

"Um, yes, uh. You're in Turkey's palace, he dragged you in here and told us to clean you up and make you," he coughed to the side and looked away from her face, blushing even harder, "presentable." He finished weakly. After staring at him for another minute she glanced down to her waist and screamed again. Blushing hard she threw him into the slowly rising Gupta.

"Get out." She shouted impatiently, pointing to the door and pulling her pants up with her other hand. After disentangling themselves from each other they rushed through the door and slammed it behind them, a loud crash sounding against the door. Both boys stood there, leaning against the door and panting before Heracles turned to his friend. He gulped once before attempting to speak.

"He, I mean she, is a girl." Gupta nodded dumbly. "What do we do now?" He regarded his friend. Gupta seemed about to answer sarcastically before pausing and turning his head, looking thoughtful. Suddenly, he whipped his head back to stare into the Greeks green eyes.

"Sadiq can't know." He stated in a low voice. Heracles blinked before realization dawned on him as to what Turkey might do to the girl.

"It would be bad if he found out." Heracles agreed, nodding to his friend. After this they both waited outside of the bathroom door until it finally opened, revealing the girl clad in her leggings and shirt from earlier. Both boys scrutinized her carefully, noticing how she had washed the dirt and blood from herself, though to their relief all of her wounds appeared to have been superficial. She noticed their scrutiny and regarded them both.

"What." She demanded.

"You look like a boy." Gupta stated slowly. Her face flushed red and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"He meant that as a good thing." Heracles said quickly and nervously, interposing himself between the two. "If Turkey found out that you were a girl, then he might... do things... to you..." He ended lamely, glancing at Gupta. His Egyptian friend shrugged with a helpless look on his face. The girl regarded them both carefully.

"You won't tell him?" She asked slowly, measuring their reactions.

"No we wouldn't, right Gupta?" Heracles added, glancing at his friend who nodded vigorously. "See?" Heracles asked the girl, trying to smile his best. She stared at Gupta for awhile before turning back to Heracles and finally nodding.

"Alright, I'm Hungary by the way, or Elizavita if you prefer." She stuck out her hand and Heracles shook it happily. He noticed she did not offer it to shake hands with Gupta however, causing the Greek to scowl slightly at the lapse. Dismissing it he smiled warmly again and turned his head back to regard Hungary.

"Ok, now we need to get you out of those clothes." He said pleasantly, trying to think which shirt would hide her femininity best.

"What!!!" She shouted, balling her hand into a fist. Gupta winced slightly as he heard the loud crack of his friends jaw making contact with the fist.

**Wow, I don't think I have had that much fun writing a chapter in a long time, if ever. Anyway, it's Hungary, yay. I thought it time to add her as she would be an excellent third element to Heracles and Gupta's friendship and I could just have too much fun writing such a tom boyish character. Read and Review please, it really helps inspire me for new chapters.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm so sorry for the wait; I had absolutely no idea of what to write after the last one. Here is a dramatization. "Oh wow, finally a new character. This will definitely make the story more interesting. Ok, here's Hungary, Greece and Egypt...... crap." So ya, I didn't know what I should do with Hungary once I introduced her. Eventually, I was reading some history books in preparation for my next story and saw an Ottoman Empire timeline and, after looking through it, inspiration came. Yay. I don't own Hetalia or the characters, just the story.**

"So what do you guys do for fun exactly?" Hungary asked, standing before the two boys reclining on the grass in front of Turkey's house looking at a freshly white washed wall. Gupta and Heracles shared a look of boredom before the latter turned back to Hungary and gestured around him.

"You're looking at it." He said casually. Hungary gave him a look of exasperation and sat down next to them. She, however, rose to her feet shortly afterwards again and began pacing in an attempt to distract herself, eventually throwing up her hands in an expression of irritation.

"I'm soooooooo bored. Isn't there anything fun to do?" Gupta shrugged and Heracles took it upon himself to answer her again.

"Well, while Turkey is watching we can't really do a lot." He inclined his head towards a nearby window with a grimace of distaste. Hungary looked towards the dim outline of the Turk in the window before shuddering slightly and looking away.

"God he's creepy, how do you put up with it?" Hungary asked in curiosity. Heracles shrugged lazily with a bored expression on his face while Gupta absently petted his Jackal lying beside him.

"You get used to it." Gupta said simply. Hungary stared at him in shock for a few minutes, surprised he would talk, before catching herself. With a slight colouring from embarrassment on her cheeks for her shock. She remained silent, standing there and regarding the two boys before a feral grin lit up her face.

"How about I teach you two a fun game?" She asked slyly. Gupta immediately adopted an expression of trepidation while Heracles just smiled with his eyes closed in contentment, oblivious to the disturbing smile the Hungarian now sported.

"Sure why not." Heracles sat up, supporting his upper body with his hands and yawned. "What do we do?" Hungary gave a wider grin and a dangerous glint appeared in her eye, both of which caused Gupta to shift nervously on the ground.

"Not much. I just need a frying pan and a few volunteers." She put a finger to her chin in mock consideration before brightening and pointing at the two boys. "You two will do." Heracles gave another lazy smile while Gupta rapidly shook his head at the Greek boy. Hungary gave another wicked grin before turning away from the two.

"Just give me a minute to prepare." She then dashed off in the direction of the kitchen leaving Gupta to lightly smack the back of Heracles' head.

"What?" The Greek whined while Gupta shook his head in irritation of his friend's apparent ignorance.

*****

Sadiq looked out the window and observed Hungary leave the other two boys. He would have smiled at the easy camaraderie the three showed except that he had a visitor, hence the three youths banishment to the outside. He scowled slightly and turned back to the guest. The man's aristocratic fingers lightly gripping a glass of tea while the light shined off his pair of glasses. Sadiq maintained his stare while he waited for his companion to finish the sip he had just taken. Once the man had deposited the glass back onto the table Saidq waited for him to make the first move. Sadly, the waiting game was not one Sadiq enjoyed and he soon became irritated at the man's lack of expression.

"So, Roderich," the Turk began, watching as the blue eyes slowly opened to regard his own eyes neutrally, "I take it this is not a social call?" He finished with barely concealed sarcasm evident in his tone. If Austria noticed this, he didn't show it.

"You would be correct, of course." The Austrian said with a nod. "But please Turkey, this is a formal call. Refer to me as Austria for the duration of our talks." His stoic expression remained throughout his statement and Sadiq gave an irritated glare at the other, though his mask hid it as effectively as Roderich's expression masked the Austrians emotions.

"Of course, Austria," he said the name with laced venom, "let us be as formal as we can. You came here with a specific task in mind?" Sadiq did not feel like dancing around in the game of politics with the poised aristocrat. He was not in the mood. Roderich nodded with a hint of disdain curling his lips at the bluntness.

"I did indeed. It is my understanding that you still have young Hungary. Now why would that be?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow accompanying the mocking question. Sadiq scowled at him. It was not a subject he had relished having been raised but he had expected it, more the pity. He watched as the Austrian picked up his glass and took another sip of the tea.

"I have conquered Hungary, therefore is it, and he, not mine to govern as I wish." He saw the genuine surprise that registered on the others face at the mention of the Hungarian before it was wiped off quickly. How curious, this was not new information surely? It was in fact the reason he had come.

"You seem to misunderstand the nature of the arrangement." Austria said simply, still holding the cup. "While true you did conquer much of the kingdom, the fact remains that much of it is still governed by Austria." Saidq narrowed his eyes at the stress Roderich placed on the word Austria.

"I fail to understand what this has on the placement of young Hungary." Sadiq said coolly. The Austrian narrowed his eyes and deposited the cup back down on the table slowly, as though physically weighing the wording of his next statement.

"It is simple really," Roderich said slowly, intertwining his aristocratic fingers, "as it is split between us, so too will the, boy, be jointly shared." Sadiq clenched his jaw at that, noticing how Roderich leaned back in his chair at the motion.

"And should I refuse to hand him over." Sadiq asked leaning forward and taking note of the slight anger on the Austrians face that flashed by in but a moment of time.

"Come now Sadiq," Roderich stated, also leaning forward, "we both know you don't have a leg to stand on here. This was a government decision; you have no sway over this argument." Sadiq stayed perfectly still, not betraying anything. He knew the Austrian was right, and he despised him for it. This would not end well for him any way he played it, he knew that. Every moment the Hungarian was away from him the less influence he would have over the nation. He had little doubt Hungary would see Austria as his knight in shining armour, further distancing the two. Hungary would also weaken his hold over the other two, as whenever the Hungarian returned, it would remind his other charges of a life outside of his rule. Sadly, he was also well aware that the other was right. He had no say in this matter as he didn't want to risk a war with Austria. It would weaken both, and with the other European nations gaining strength, he couldn't afford to overstep his bounds.

"Come." Sadiq stated grudgingly, rising from his chair and striding towards the door, waiting until the Austrian had joined him before departing the room and marching down the hall, listening absently to the lighter footsteps of the Austrian behind him. Opening the doors he waited in silence for the Hungarian to stop beating Heracles with a frying pan before Austria coughed, garnering the attention of Hungary.

"Roddy!" Hungary shouted in joy, running forward and embracing the older man in a tight embrace, earning blush from Austria and a smirk from Turkey. Roddy? How amusing, Sadiq thought before turning towards the two European nations. He heard Gupta help Heracles rise and considered banishing the two from their presence, before dismissing the thought as unnecessary. They would find out eventually.

"Hungary." He said in a commanding voice, watching the Hungarian turn to regard him with trepidation. "You will be living with Austria for awhile." He grew silent at the scream of glee that erupted from the Hungarians throat, mildly shocked at the pitch. Before he could continue, however, Austria loudly cleared his throat and detached Hungary from his waist.

"Come along Eli- Hungary." Austria corrected, shooting a glance at the two younger nations hanging back. "It's time to go." Pulling the Hungarian behind him, he made his way quickly towards the main entrance. Once they were gone from sight, Heracles turned to Gupta with questioning eyes.

"Will he be back?" Heracles asked his friend, placing special emphasis on the he. Before Gupta could answer Sadiq snorted.

"Of course he will. He'll only be gone for a short while. He is still mine." He said with a sneer, curling his hand into a fist as though in anticipation of holding the nation again.

"I wish he didn't have to." Heracles said softly.

_Crack._

Gupta ran to his friend, laid low by Turkeys blow. The Egyptian shot a glare at the stunned Turk, holding his position after punching Heracles in the jaw, and pulled his friend to his feet. After casting another hate filled glare at Sadiq he pulled his friend in the direction of the house, patting Heracles' back in reassurance. Sadiq stood, frozen in the position he had been in after punching the Greek, for several minutes before he looked at his fist in shock.

"Why did I do that?" He asked himself in confusion, wondering at the cause of the sudden surge of... rage? Fear?

Because I'm losing them, he answered himself. That thought disturbed him more than he thought it should.

*****

Gupta carefully washed the blood from Heracles' split lip before taking his friend back to his room and helping him into his bed. Gupta stood by the bed, wringing his hands in worry at his friend's state as Heracles finally permitted himself to cry. Tears stained Heracles' pillow and Gupta felt truly helpless to ease his friend's distress. Heracles cried in pain for several minutes before finally lapsing into choking sobs, then silence.

"I hate him." He finally said vehemently. Gupta could only nod in agreement.

"I hate it here." Again, Gupta nodded, albeit hesitantly. He didn't want to think about whether or not that hatred would include him. After a short silence he began to silently make his way towards the door before Heracles spoke again.

"Please," Gupta turned towards the bed, "please don't leave." Nodding, Gupta came to the side of the bed and sat beside it, humming a short tune to comfort the Greek.

**Ok, finally I have some more ideas. It took awhile but I now know where the story is going. Read and Review please, sorry for the wait.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Not much Turkey here, though what happens here is somewhat important.**

It went on in that manner for awhile, Hungary coming to Turkey's house and staying for awhile before returning to Austria's house, then repeating. Heracles was glad that she could leave, though every time she left he felt a little sadder and a little more ashamed at those feelings. It all changed the day that Hungary woke him in the middle of the night.

"Shush." She said, covering his mouth with her hand to suppress his words. She waited until he had calmed down before removing her hand and tip-toeing towards the door. "Come on." She whispered conspiratorially to the Greek, beckoning him towards the door of his room with one hand, the other holding a curious bag. Sliding out of bed and approaching her, she impatiently grabbed his hand and dragged him through the halls towards the front door.

Heracles shuddered when they passed the door of Turkey's study. The Turk had been especially violent of late, and it had not been going well for his charges should they be caught in his path. Of course he had left awhile ago but the feeling remained as an ever present reminder of something wrong. Hungary noticed his shudder and smiled reassuringly at him. Heracles calmed once they passed the door, following Hungary until they reached the massive front doors.

"Where are we going?" Heracles asked cautiously, whipping his head down the hall frequently to ensure they were still alone. Hungary gave him a wink, opening the door and pulling Heracles through it. Once on the other side she pushed the door closed and casually walked towards the front gate of the massive estate, Heracles following pensively until they both arrived at the gate, at which point Hungary produced a key. She quickly opened the ornate gate and slid through, beckoning again for the Greek to do the same. Once outside the wall Hungary turned to Heracles with a restrained smile.

"I need to talk to you, do you know somewhere good?" Heracles gave her a strange look. Why was she letting him choose somewhere? What did she want to tell him? Nothing good, was the only answer he could come up with. There was only one place where he would be comfortable left that was nearby, where the closest thing to a father the nation had had was.

"Let's go to Byzantines grave." He said dejectedly. Hungary dropped her smile, realizing the Greek had seen through her ruse. Nodding to him he led her away from the walls and towards the coast where, for good or ill, he would hear what she had to say.

*****

The sea air rustled the two figures hair as they finally slowed their pace, taking their time in approaching the grave. Neither said a word as they stood in front of the cairn of stones that marked the memorial. Hungary sighed, breaking the silence. Reaching into the bag she produced a curious pastry, shaped like a crescent moon.

"Here. It's called a croissant, try it its good." Heracles took and gingerly bit into the flaky pastry, marvelling at the taste. There was a pause as Heracles chewed on the food.

"I'm leaving." She said finally, in a subdued tone. Heracles raised an eyebrow, this was not a new thing, as she had been leaving and coming back for the better part of a century. Hungary saw the look on his face and gave him a sad smile. "I meant for good." Heracles felt his chest tighten. A cold breeze blew past him, mirroring the atmosphere at the declaration while the pastry began to taste like ashes in his mouth. "Roderich is going to take me away. He and a bunch of his allies are fighting Turkey at Vienna as we speak. I won't be living here anymore." She finished quietly, giving the Greek a pleading look.

Heracles slowly began chewing again, using the food as an excuse to not speak to his companion until he had formulated his thoughts. Hungary was leaving; he and Gupta would be alone with Turkey again. He felt the world he had known for so long begin to slip away again. First Byzantine, now Hungary. He held back his tears, glad for choosing to come here. He needed the courage of his father figure for what he had to do next, Byzantine would expect no less. Swallowing the food he turned to Hungary.

"That's wonderful Hungary." He said enthusiastically, throwing his arms around the startled girl. "I'm so glad for you. Think of all the things you can do now." He said, pushing himself off and holding her at arm's length. "Just make sure Austria is nice. Write to me whenever you can ok, I want to hear all about living there full time." Heracles continued, smiling ear to ear. Hungary looked taken aback for several more minutes before her expression softened; she enveloped the Greek in a crushing hug.

"I'll miss you." She said softly into his ear, Heracles pulled her closer, hugging her back fiercely.

"We'll see each other again," he suppressed the tremor that tried to work its way into his voice; "you can make me a cake when I get my own house." She pulled away and lightly punched him in the stomach.

"I don't bake, you should know that." She said lightly, Heracles grinned slyly at her.

"I'm sure 'Roddy' will appreciate you learning how." He gently teased. Hungary stomped her foot in mock anger before looking back to Heracles, who closed his eyes in anticipation of being punched harder. Instead he felt something pushed into his hand.

"Goodbye." Hungary said one last time, in a low and sad voice. Heracles kept his eyes closed until he heard her footsteps recede into the distance, only opening them once he was sure he was alone. He opened the bag that Hungary had left him. It was filled with croissants, baked lovingly in celebration. Only then did Heracles look closely at them, and realized the significance of their crescent shape.

"Goodbye." He said finally, letting the tears he had held back flow freely down his cheeks, soaking the ground he stood on. Byzantine would have been proud.

*****

The siege of Vienna had been a failure for Turkey, who was now grudgingly signing the Treaty of Karlowitz. Austria, Poland and several other members of the 'Holy League' smugly watched the frustrated Turk sign the treaty, who was seething silently at the treatment. Losing was just something Turkey did not do, it showed weakness and he could not afford that in front of his charges. He glanced at Heracles and Gupta, the former was grinning at his humiliation while the latter stood silently, though his eyes sparkled in amusement. Fools, he thought privately as his eyes flashed in suppressed rage behind his mask, he was protecting them but they were too stubborn to see that.

After signing the Treaty the various nations filed out of the room, Heracles being glared at by the Turk until he stopped grinning and left with Gupta. Eventually, only Sadiq and a large twenty something looking nation wearing a beige over coat, grey scarf, and a disturbing childish smile remained. The scarved man rose to his feet once the two were alone and strode over to the Turk, who glared at him in irritation and strange feelings of familiarity.

"What do you want now?" The Turk demanded haughtily, attempting to salvage his tarnished image under the others violet eyed stare. The man only continued to smile while Turkey resisted the urge to fidget.

"You have something I want." He finally said cheerily, a chill running down Turkey's spine at the declaration. He was still strong, he reminded himself, and the man had not fought him directly during the war.

"Do I? And what might that be?" He spat back in irritation at having yet more demands heaped on him. Were the losses he sustained in the treaty not enough for the familiar figure to be satisfied with?

"You are the one who killed Byzantine da?" The man asked instead. Sadiq scoffed at the nation before him. That act was old news though he still felt a slight twinge of... something at the mention of the empires demise.

"I did what about it?" Sadiq said, hiding his mild curiosity at what Byzantine had to do with the imposing man. The man's eyes seemed to harden in malice, Sadiq tensed in case the other attempted to attack him, no doubts about his own martial skills though he was somewhat weakened by the war.

"I want what he denied me. I want Constantinople." He finished eerily. Sadiq matched the glare with his own, of equal and perhaps surpassing strength and intensity.

"It's Istanbul now, and never." Sadiq answered icily. The scarved man seemed unphased and merely gave another smile, though it held no true warmth.

"Never say never da?" He said in the childish tone before breaking his stare and turning towards the exit. As the other nation walked towards the door, Sadiq listened to the heavy footsteps as he attempted to assess the nation's strength by their encounter. "Kievan Rus will see you soon." The man tossed over his shoulder happily before walking through the doors. Sadiq felt his mouth suddenly go dry and palms begin to sweat at the declaration. He had been familiar for a reason then.

**Build up. So I'm trying to finish this story up soon as my next one kind of requires this one to be completed. As such I'm working on finishing it a lot but still don't want the overall quality to lag. Read and Review please. By the way, the reference is the third siege of Vienna, the last time Turkey attempted to take the city and the westernmost push the Ottoman Empire reached before its decline. Also, during the siege the croissant was invented, mocking the Ottoman symbol of the crescent moon on their flag. Also, anyone know if there is anything about Byzantine in Hetalia officially? I don't want to go OOC if I can help it in any way. Please and thanks.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm disappointed with the ending but the other one I thought of was... disturbing. Disclaimer, I won the story but nothing else.**

Sadiq stormed down one of the the halls of his palace towards his room, the precious items on display along his path failing to lighten his mood. Each was a record from a campaign, his most recent one being an unfortunate failure. A Venetian expedition had taken some territories in Greece and due to the war with the 'Holy League' he lacked the resources to retake them. It was quite irritating.

"You blew it up." Sadiq stopped and turned to regard the speaker, the cold tone causing him to pause. Heracles stood behind him, eyes ablaze with hatred the likes of which he hadn't seen since he had first brought him to his house.

"What?" Sadiq asked in a low growl. He wasn't interested in having a juvenile spat with the Greek at the moment. He had Italians to kill after all.

"You blew it up." He said in the same cold tone. Sadiq turned, his interest piqued by the unusual amount of control the Greek was displaying. It was odd to say the least, usually Heracles would have started shouting or break something instead of confronting him in such a way.

"What exactly did I blow up?" Sadiq asked, interested despite himself. Heracles had never talked to him in this way and he honestly had no idea what the Greek was talking about.

"You. Blew up. The Parthenon." Heracles said slowly, beginning to walk up to the Turk with a measured pace. Heracles finally stopped, directly in front of Sadiq and glared into his eyes. Sadiq was surprised by the courage the other was showing in confronting him. Surprised, and somewhat wary at the changes displayed and what they might entail.

"Ah yes, the Parthenon." Sadiq said distractedly, remembering the event in question. "Technically, the Venetians did it." He added with a wicked smirk, only then noticing that the Greek was having much less trouble looking at him directly in the eyes than he used to. Sadiq casually moved his hand onto his sword hilt while the Greeks green eyes narrowed in anger, either oblivious or ignoring the motion.

"You were using it as an ammunition dump." He said in a far too calm tone. Sadiq narrowed his eyes in response, finding the tone disquieting as it did not line up with anything the Greek had shown to him before.

"It is mine." He said in finality. "I can do with it as I please." He finished with a snarl, noticing the slight twitch of Heracles' eye. Abruptly, he found the Greeks hands on his shirt collar and he was shoved into the wall.

"It was my mother's!" Heracles shouted into Sadiq's face. The nation in question was too shocked by the sudden actions to respond immediately, but when he did he shoved the Greek forcefully away, smoothing his clothes out immediately afterwards while he attempted to assess the situation. When had Heracles grown up until he could manhandle him!? How interesting.

"It's mine now and you would do well to remember it." Sadiq said, leaving the threat hanging in the air as well as an escape for both as Sadiq needed time to reassess his position with Greece. Said Greek chose to ignore it however.

"You stored ammunition in it, what the hell did you think would happen." Heracles shouted rhetorically while pointing an accusing finger at Sadiq, who angrily waved the comment away with his hand.

"Irrelevant, I had every right to do what I pleased with the rubble." He said dismissively, his furious scowl at being handled by the Greek still present. Said Greek was shaking in fury at the off handed comment.

"That rubble," he began in a low voice, "is one of the few things I still have from her." Sadiq narrowed his eyes further at then affection he seemed insistent at directing at his mother. Did he value his mother, whom he could barely remember, so much?

"You're mother," Sadiq scoffed, "you barely remember the woman." Sadiq remembered her, on the other hand. He remembered her all too well, and scorned the memory as much as he did the woman herself.

"She was still my mother." Heracles said dangerously. Sadiq furrowed his brows in anger. The Greek was being increasingly hostile and disrespectful, but physical abuse would no longer suffice as it had in the past, as he would likely be hurt in the process. He wondered if Gupta was capable of harming him as well. That thought did not have a place here, he recognized as he dismissed it.

"What kind of a son were you to her? You couldn't save her." Sadiq knew the words cut the Greek deep; he knew it and so was not truly surprised when the Greek came back viciously, though the words he said held some shock value to the Turk. He found the wordplay between them strangely exciting.

"And what were you to her." Heracles snapped. Sadiq raised an eyebrow at that, amused at how interested he was in what the nation had to say. "Were you the brat she knew, or do you think you were the husband my mother always wanted." Sadiq laughed at that, a genuine laugh, surprising even himself and Heracles whose eyes slightly widen at the uncharacteristic expression of amusement. Sadiq had not laughed like that in centuries.

"You're mother" he said the word disdainfully once his laughter had died down "was a whore, who spread her culture almost as much as her legs." Heracles stared at him in a mixture of shock and pure rage at the comment. Sadiq smiled wickedly at that. "She had passed her prime. Rome was tired of her and had moved on; she became a pity case who couldn't follow the empires lead." He spat. He knew what she had been but apparently the Greek had not, how ironic. "Byzantine knew that, likely why he had taken her anyway. He had everything else of value from her." He smiled fondly at that, Byzantine had always had a way with money, and knives.

"Then why did he kick you out instead?" Heracles commented acidly. Sadiq repressed the urge to strike the cocky Greek right there. Physical violence was no longer effective, he reminded himself in irritation for the second time. In addition, he wanted to see if the Greek would throw the first punch, a necessary risk to understand the Greek further.

"Fear." He said with mock pleasantness tainting the word. Heracles glared at Sadiq spitefully before giving a twisted smile of his own.

"Trust?" Heracles asked smoothly. Sadiq was becoming increasingly annoyed at that, but knew he couldn't let it show.

"My relationship with your mother was of no import between me and Byzantine." He said derisively, turning his head and gaze haughtily away from the Greek. He wanted to win this, but he didn't want to admit to that, that which had driven a wedge between him and Byzantine, the first fracture in his mind. The Greek was turning the argument around, Sadiq did not like that.

"That's not what she told me." Sadiq whipped his head around and stared at the smirking Greek. Had he less control, Sadiq expected his mouth would have been hanging open. Heracles smirked wider, figuring that his assumption had been correct. It was a guess, but an accurate one if Sadiq's expression was to be believed.

"What would you know about it? Even now you're still the child that couldn't help his mommy," Sadiq said mockingly, "the child who couldn't save her. The child who let everyone he cared about die because he was weak." Sadiq finished with his face inches away from Heracles' shocked wide eyes. There was a stunned silence before Heracles narrowed his eyes once again, his lips twisting into a vengeful smirk.

"At least they had someone who loved them, how about you?" He said with a challenge in his voice. A challenge Sadiq was only too happy to oblige as he grabbed the Greeks shirt in his hands in an attempt to yell more directly. It was what he intended before said Greek pushed him away, inadvertently dragging both to the floor to grapple.

For a good ten minutes they rolled on the ground, punching and kicking each other viciously until Heracles landed a lucky shot, smashing Sadiq's mask. With a snarl the Turk pushed him away and covered the part of his face left uncovered before quickly rising to his feet and kicking the Greek in the ribs. Turning away from the incapacitated Greece, Sadiq strode towards his study, trying to calm his racing heart and adrenaline charged body.

Heracles smiled once Sadiq had gone and rose shakily to his feet. Wiping the blood from a split lip he lurched in the direction of his room. He may be bruised and bloody, but Sadiq was too and that was all that mattered to him.

*****

Sadiq sat in his study, his soft chair easing the aches he felt from his battle with Heracles while the wine in his hand soothed his troubled mind. He slowly swirled the red liquid in its glass, watching as the red waves attempted to crest the rim of the glass and escape its confinement. Is this how Heracles felt? Frowning, he placed the drink back down on the nearby table.

The Greek didn't need his protection; he had proved that in the struggle. Would he try for independence after their scuffle now that he knew he was physically able? Unlikely, though the prospect was interesting.

Sadiq did not miss the irony of the fact that he was rethinking his actions now, instead of before he acted on impulse. But the nature behind the impulse disturbed him. Why did he prod the Greek so animatedly? Why not the Egyptian? Both acted out, only Egypt rarely showed any reaction if confronted, he just wasn't... fun? Yes, fun to confront with any degree of true aggression.

Sadiq deepened his frown at the sudden realization. Did he irritate the Greek like that because he wanted a reaction, wanted the Greek to be angry at him so that he could prove his superiority over him physically? To validate the necessity to guard him still?

Sadiq scoffed, what had he to prove to the irritable child he thought as he lazily moved his eyes across the room, coming to rest on a metal cross in a display case hanging on the wall, a trophy from the Hagia Sophia. No, he was a child no longer and continuing to think of him as such would cause him to underestimate the nation, something he should not do. The cross that caught his gaze was nearly four feet tall and was an impressive item, with carvings etched in the steel depicting scenes from the bible.

Sadiq smiled while observing the crucifex. It was the mark of his victory, but also of his defeat in a way. He frowned sadly at that, ever since he killed Byzantine he had felt... hollow in some way. There seemed like little point in fighting anymore, like he was just going through the motions without a clear goal. That is, until today. Fighting with Greece, both verbally and physically, he had felt alive again.

"_To improve yourself, you have to challenge yourself." Byzantine said to Turkey, pointing towards various scrolls and weapons littering his desk. "Education is one way, but challenging yourself physically is a necessity as well." Turkey looked quizzically at the tall brunette._

"_You mean practicing with weapons?" He asked, he already knew that but Byzantine often took pleasure in saying less than he meant, leaving others (except Rome) to try and puzzle out his double meanings and cryptic words._

"_That's one way but you need to challenge yourself with a foe, a worthy one. You need a nemesis." He said pointedly, put action to words by indicating the Turk with his index finger. Turkey eyed him with understanding, then curiosity. _

"_Do you have one?" He asked nervously, not knowing if he was stepping out of line with the brunette. Byzantine gave him a strange look before smirking to himself._

"_The closest I have is probably Persia at the moment, but in some ways he isn't all that challenging. I'm still waiting for mine." He said with a disturbing smile directed at the Turk. Turkey shifted nervously until Byzantine looked away and pulled a scroll off the desk and handed it to Turkey. "Now let's get started."_

Sadiq smiled widely at the memory, he hadn't understood then, but he did now. Those last words, let's get started indeed. He had been Byzantines nemesis, and it had made him strong. Catching that thought understanding hit him like a battering ram. He needed a nemesis again, and Greece needed one too.

Perfect he thought with a manic smile. He had been weakening without being able to be challenged by an individual and it was catching up to him, but now that Greece had grown up, he could do so again and in doing so strengthen Greece.

Saidq slowly began to chuckle, continuing until it built into a booming laugh as he stood and spun around in the middle of the room, feeling the understanding brought about by his realization coursing through him like a drug and making him giddy.

He didn't want the Greek to love him; he didn't want him to be subservient to him. He wanted Heracles to hate him, to challenge him, to push him to his limits again. Sadiq knew then that his life had just become interesting once again. Byzantine, even when you're dead you surprise me, he thought as he collapsed back into his chair, wearing the same bizarre smile Byzantine had worn that day in his memories.

*****

Greece rubbed one of his bruises. Though it was painful he couldn't help but smile. He had finally hurt the empire, not by breaking some insignificant object but by facing him directly. He had never felt so alive than that moment when he had punched the Turk, finally doing some visible damage. He could hurt him, no longer was Greece the child he had been when Byzantine had died, he had grown up and he would show Turkey that he could fight. He would make Byzantine and his mother proud, but to do so he would have to keep pressuring Turkey.

His cat jumped up onto his lap and he petted it absently, still thinking about what he could do now. A knock at his door disrupted his thoughts. Raising his eyes to regard the entrance he smiled, knowing who it was as the door had not been smashed down and thrown out the window.

"Come in Gupta." He said happily. The Egyptian opened the door and paused once he saw the bruised and bloody Greek smiling crazily. Cocking his head to the side he gave a silent question. "I fought Turkey." Heracles said happily. Gupta stared at him, considering his tone before walking to him and placing his palm on his forehead.

"I'm not sick Gupta." Heracles said with a laugh at his friend's actions, batting the hand away affectionately while Egypt continued with his confused stare. "But I fought back, and I hurt him," Heracles said viciously, clenching his fist "he can't push us around like he used to." Gupta gave Heracles an interested look at that, both the statement and the term 'we'.

"Did he win?" He finally asked. Heracles gave his friend another wild smile before answering.

"He beat me, but we can hurt him now." Heracles said as he grabbed his friend's hand, bringing it up before his face. "I'll never stop fighting him, and you can do it too. We've grown up; he can't control us like he could." Gupta remained silent before cocking his head in contemplation. Soon a wide smile cracked his stoic visage and he gave Heracles a determined look.

"Finally."

**By the nine rings of hell that was a hard chapter to write, and a long one for quite possibly one of the most important parts of the story. It started out with Greece just getting beat up, then it turned into some sort of weird implied rape thing (which I might revisit) until it finally became Turkeys epiphany about what he wanted out of Greece and his relationship with Byzantine. Review please, I'd like to how other people think this turned out.**


	9. Chapter 9

** Gaaaah, historical accuracy is all I have left. I do not own Hetalia or the characters.**

Sadiq felt his fingers curl into fists as he glared over the parapets of Istanbul's walls. How? How had this happened he raged silently, unwilling to let his companion on the wall hear his cries of loss. The damn Russian, how had he beaten him, the unstoppable juggernaut that was the Ottoman Empire had faltered to the constantly smiling empire. Kievan Rus was what he was once called, yet now he dared proclaim himself an empire, the Empire of Russia!

He despised the Russian with a passion he generally reserved to the Greek. Where had Greece gone anyway, the empire wondered as he cast his gaze around the wall. The nation had gone missing a few days ago, and the war had diverted all of the Turks attention. When I find that brat, Sadiq thought to himself as he curled his hand about his sword meaningfully with a ghost of a smile, I'll...

"They seem to be having trouble passing the Turkish straights mon ami." Sadiq's companion chirped, though the word ami was laced with fairly imperceptible sarcasm. Sadiq noticed, as he did live with Egypt who's few words said much but his tone always said more.

He glanced at his companion in irritation at having his thoughts interrupted, his characteristic mask hiding the emotion splayed across his visage. Sadiq snorted in contempt at the comment, he had known full well that Russia would be unable to attack Istanbul directly.

"Of course they are," Sadiq said disdainfully, "they were fools to believe they could climb my walls with ease." He finished with a dark grin as he turned back to observe the sea lapping at the rocky shore, his 'walls' against his enemies.

"We have used the walls nature gave us well." The man said happily, ignorant of the glance Sadiq shot him at the term 'we'. He hated how the world had changed. New empires had grown from Europe and dominated the world now, his companion being one of them which only added to his ire. "It is too bad that your wooden wall failed you." Sadiq let his grin drop abruptly at that. It was true, regardless of how much he wished to deny it. The Russians had decimated his fleet of ships with ease, leaving him vulnerable to attacks from the sea.

"If he had not had help he would have failed." Sadiq grumbled, noticing how childish his protest sounded as the Frenchman smiled at him again.

"Ces't vrai, but the same could be said for you non?" Though France had phrased it as a question, Turkey knew it was anything but. The cocky nation had grown powerful in the last few centuries, just as England had, the nation who had aided the Russian navy.

A burgeoning power in the medieval world when the clash of swords and flights of arrows blackened the skies, he had grown stronger with his fleets of ships and colonies in the 'New World'. The knowledge that he had taken to the east by going around Turkey had pleased him at first, believing it had assured him of his own power that still remained.

The feeling had not remained long.

The world no longer looked to the east, to Turkey. They no longer needed him. No longer needed the spices he sold or the gold he carried the exotic goods that had to pass through him and lined his pockets with their journey. Theirs was a world of colonies overseas, of fantastic machines and change that delighted and enriched these new empires.

Sadiq's world?

His world was a world of jewels and thrones. A world of concubines and palaces, rich culture and the strong arm of an army trained in tactics tried and true. In short, his was an empire of glories and glamour where gold glittered and the old ways remembered and honoured.

Stagnation. Sadiq cursed that word, cursed it in every language he knew. It was the curse of empires and he couldn't live with the knowledge it brought. He had brought Byzantine to his knees with new technology, the cannon blasting holes in the old empires fabled walls. He had mocked the empire for being weak, not changing and embracing the new.

It was ironic that he was now a victim of the very same affliction, one that snuck up on nations and brought them low, broke them and scattered them. It was what killed his predecessor and he hadn't been able to accept it was killing him too.

He couldn't.

He wouldn't.

He didn't have a choice.

"Anglettere is truly a marvel at sea." The Frenchman said, swooning in delight. Sadiq shot another spiteful glare at the other empire. He loathed the romantic beside him. He hated the way he walked with a swagger in his hips. He hated how the Frenchman flirted with everything in arms reach. He hated how France gave him a look of condescension whenever he felt like it, not even bothering to hide his contempt of the Turk. He hated how he had brought his own chef, calling Turkey's food 'barbaric'. But above all else, Turkey hated the fact that he needed him.

Sadiq huffed in annoyance at that. He had been impressed by the Englishman and the way he had whipped the Russian navy into the force that battered at his shore but he would never admit it out loud to the accursed Frenchman.

"He shall not take my city." Sadiq said savagely. France merely smiled at the Turk, that accursed lewd grin he habitually wore. Sadiq had to wonder if the other European nations found France equally repulsive, or if he simply focused his aggravation at losing to the smiling Russian at the nearest European in sight.

"What's wrong," France asked in mock sympathy, knowing he could get away with it because Sadiq would not dare send him away, "is someone mad because they lost." Sadiq narrowed his eyes at that remark before adopting a cruel and sadistic smile of his own.

"Maybe you would like to make it better?" He asked heatedly, his grin widening as France lost a bit of his smile, eyes flashing in nervousness. "Are you going to show me how 'amore'," he said the word lustfully, "will take away my pain." His grin stretched as far as it could when France dropped the last of his smile and turned back to looking at the sea, his face much whiter than it had been previously.

"Perhaps another time." France responded in a troubled voice, absently rubbing his forearm. Sadiq let his smile drop in mock disappointment. When France had first arrived to help, he had attempted to seduce Turkey, perhaps because of his reputation as the nation of love demanded the attempt. Sadiq had been all too happy to accommodate the nation. He chuckled as said Frenchman rubbed his arm. Weakling, the cuts wouldn't even leave a scar. None of the nations in Europe truly knew what a real scar was like, they did not have the proper instructors.

"_Little Rus, aren't you happy? I bet you don't even really know what it is to be sad, or you would smile all the time. Shall I show you?" _

Turkey shuddered slightly, pulling his robes a little closer as he attempted to banish the thoughts back into the depths of his mind. One European nation did know what it was like to have scars, he supposed. More the pity he had learned so young.

"I heard that Egypt was giving you trouble not too long ago, were you unable to recruit his aid in your war?" France asked, his mocking tone returning with a vengeance. Sadiq scowled at that, the truth in his words stinging. Egypt had rebelled during the war, a small one but one that proved to be an unnecessary distraction to the Turk. Though the rebellion was crushed, it had been costly to repress with Russia banging on his door.

"He was disobedient." Sadiq said simply, shrugging. "He has been dealt with."

"I see." France responded simply, knowing that the punishment the silent nation had likely suffered to have been harsh. Sadiq would not deny it, but he had been fair in his punishment. Still, he wondered at the fact that Gupta had rebelled at all. It was unlike him to act out so... obviously. He frowned at that thought; he had always been the quiet one, the one whose antics paled in comparison of his friends. So what had been different? The scale, he supposed. Egypt had grown up along with Greece.

Greece.

Greece!

That was what was truly different, both boys had always had their little rebellions together, yet Gupta had done it alone.

Sadiq whipped around, France jumping with a start at the unexpected movement. If Gupta had rebelled alone, then why had Greece not supported him? There was a play behind the scenes and Sadiq distrusted it.

A bid for freedom? It seemed most likely, and Sadiq would make damn sure that wouldn't happen. Sadiq knew of ways to leave scars, scars that would never heal.

An image of violet eyes, pleading to the Turk flashed in his mind. Sadiq pushed the image down and trampled on it, burying it deep enough that he would not have to remember the tears that had followed, or the screams. It had quite the sobering effect.

He would never cut Heracles that deep, Sadiq reassured himself, never.

**Meh, I'm not really happy with this chapter but it was necessary to build up to the next one, also I wanted to write Turkey realizing he was vulnerable; I may come back and rewrite it later. Read and Review please.**


	10. Chapter 10

**This here, the climax builds and it comes to fruition soon. I honestly did not expect this but it happened, oh well. I don't own Hetalia.**

Sadiq sat in his study with an empty brandy glass, the full bottle sitting on a nearby table waiting to taint its clear partner with its tempting concoction, waiting for Heracles to return 'home'. Staring into the glass, Sadiq watched the light play of the sloping surface and looked at the reflective purity of the glass.

His reflection stared back at him, his mask obscured features contemplative in light of the recent war. The glass was an interesting design he noted idly looking at the warped features on the mirror like surface, it almost looked like- a jar.

No! Sadiq dropped the glass onto the floor to banish the attack, but it was too late. Memories flooding back to him, holding him helpless against their dark tide and dragging him away. Drowning in their dark depths, Sadiq found he was helpless before their onslaught as they buried him beneath their dark waves.

()()()

Sadiq stepped into the grand office wearing a simple shirt and pants he had slept in the night before, fitfully he might add. Maps plastered the walls and opened scrolls covered the massive wooden desk which had a carving of the imperial eagle adorning the side facing him. Sitting on the chair behind the desk was a curly brown haired figure, bent over a scroll and writing feverishly. Wearing a purple toga casually the figure was completely at ease in the room, and why not? It was his after all. Thin and lightly muscled, the nation at the desk could have been mistaken for a woman, and had been, in the loose clothes, but woe to those that said it to his face.

Sadiq coughed and gained the man's attention, lifting his head curiously from the work and brightening when he saw him. As always, the dark brown eyes that held such mystery and the angular face of their owner took Sadiq's breath away; the confidence and ambition in those eyes made Sadiq remember why he had fallen for the man, who could never be his. He was married, and would not likely give her up for the ragged and somewhat gangly young nation before him.

The man radiated power and authority though he preferred words to blades, but was willing to use both as indicated by the dagger thrust into the table and hammer leaning against it casually. A raven sat on the pommel of the dagger, watching the intruder with sharp interest. That was quite possibly the only thing about the man he disliked, the bird that followed him everywhere.

"Sadiq welcome, I'm glad you could come." The man said brightly, giving Sadiq his cracked smile, the only one he had ever seen the nation wear. That smile could promise the richest of rewards for loyalty, or promise the cruellest of atrocity for betrayal. Sadiq had yet to see the latter; he wondered if it looked any different. "No doubt you're curious as to why I called you here."

Sadiq was, it was an abrupt summons to his benefactors' office but he wasn't unhappy, though he had a killer hang over from the previous night. His memories were somewhat blurred but he shook them off, likely wasn't important.

"Not particularly Eastern Roman." Sadiq said with a shrug, calling the nation by his official title instead of his name, assuming that it was more of an official visit. Byzantium was what he would one day be called, but not yet, he was still the Eastern Roman empire. East gave a laugh at that, throwing his head back and letting his musical voice wash over Sadiq, the ravens' harsh caw as it joined in causing a harsh under current, tainting the pure voice in Sadiq's opinion.

"You have to be. Sorry but I wanted to talk to you most anxiously." East said as his chuckles died down, the bird having cut its own off abruptly and resuming its stare. "At any rate, I wanted to talk to you about last night." He continued in a somewhat more serious tone. Sadiq cocked his head curiously, he barely remembered it himself.

"What would you like to know?" He asked curiously.

"Where you went afterwards, I lost track of you sometime in the middle of the party." East gave him an intrigued look, resting his chin in his upraised palm and leaning his elbow on the table.

Sadiq thought carefully, there was something tickling at the back of his mind, something important but he couldn't quite grasp it, his brain fuzzed by the alcohol he had consumed that night. Then he had a slight recollection, a delicate hand taking his, leading him down a hall. Drapes over a bed, a soft mattress, a woman's naked form, green eyes and flowing hair.

Greece!

East's wife.

Sadiq felt his legs almost give out, but he stood firm. He knew that if he had such a reaction the man before him would know something was wrong, and the last thing Sadiq wanted was to be 'questioned' by him. He had seen the mangled remains of people who had found themselves at the nations tender mercies, there was barely enough for his bird to pick over. He doubted the empire would go so far, but it would no doubt be unpleasant.

"I noticed that Miria was also absent." The man continued with a raised eye brow. Sadiq remembered Miria, an attractive woman with long eyelashes placed over stunning hazel eyes, an hourglass figure and silky black hair. She was a servant in East's house and Sadiq had been having an affair with her for awhile. A nice and innocent girl and Sadiq cared for her, though he focused the majority of his affections on East.

However, the fact that East was suggesting that it had been Miria Sadiq had been out with the previous night was a life line he was glad to grasp, saving him from the choppy waters of the empires graces. Sadiq threw on a nervous smile and nodded.

"Yes, I'm sorry not to have told you earlier, I've been seeing her." Sadiq said, hanging his head in shame. East gave a low laugh, his throaty chuckle causing Sadiq's heart to skip a beat.

"No doubt, I'm hardly mad at you for that." East glanced up, his dark eyes flashing with amusement. "I freed her you know, earlier today. I hope you're pleased." He gave Sadiq, who had raised his head, his cracked smile again and Sadiq returned it with a smile of his own, glad the conversation worked away from that night and to the fact that East was searching for his approval at his actions.

"Thank you." Sadiq said in gratitude, glad the girl had been freed from servitude; she was undeserving of her treatment as a servant.

"By the way, I have something of hers that she may want back; if you see her can you give it to her." East said, reaching under his table, breaking his gaze.

"Of course, what is it if I may ask?" Sadiq asked in curiosity as the raven seemed to begin chuckling darkly, its eyes glinting maliciously. The bird always was over protective of its master, a fact Sadiq had learned the hard way, but its laughter at the moment was strange and out of place.

"Something very personal, I assure you. Ah, here it is." East crowed in triumph, pulling a jar out from underneath the table.

Sadiq looked at the jar curiously, the green liquid within obscuring two orbs. They were bobbing with the motion of the jar being lifted until they began to settle, turning slowly to look at him.

Look at him with hazel irises. Sadiq choked in shock at the pair of eyes staring at him from within the jar accusingly, Miria's sorrowful gaze. His own brown eyes widened in shock and fear and his mouth struggled to make a coherent sound.

"Funny thing about Miria," Sadiq forced his gaze from the accusing eyes to stare at the judgemental look and playful tone of East as he drummed his fingers on the jars lid, "I found her by the entrance of the villa, sweeping, after you left the party. Now how could she have gotten there that quickly from your room?" Sadiq continued to stare at the cracked smile being sent to him, the Raven having broken out into mocking laughter.

It was his fault, Miria was dead because of him, and East knew he had slept with his wife. He couldn't blame East, he loved him too much to, it was his entire fault.

No, it was Greece's fault. She had led him off; she had seduced him and caused him to betray his love. It was all her fault.

East wore his cracked smile through the entire affair while his eyes sparked with amusement and pain at the betrayal, the ravens mocking laughter torturing Sadiq as he stood there silently without defence, echoing in his soul.

()()()

Sadiq heard the glass shatter on the floor, but he paid no attention to it, grabbing the full bottle of alcohol seated next to him and desperately popped the top off.

He gulped as the harsh liquor burned his throat on the way down, purifying his mind of the memories of his failure, his weakness. Alcohol would make the pain go away, he reassured himself, it always had.

As he reached the bottom of the first bottle, he reached for another immediately.

()()()

Heracles quietly made his way down the hall of Sadiq's house, careful not to make a sound to inform the owner of his return. It was unlikely that Sadiq would be very pleased with his absence, and the punishment would likely be severe.

Suddenly he felt someone slam him into the wall, his arm twisted behind his back and another hand holding his head in place against the wall.

"Where were you?" Heracles stiffened as the alcohol bathed voice flowed from behind him. The warm breath tickled his ear unpleasantly and the grip on his arm tightened painfully. "I was looking for you." Heracles realised that it was Sadiq behind him, his words slurring somewhat.

He's drunk, Heracles realized with a start, but he had never seen the Turk this drunk before. This did not bode well for Greece.

"You're mother did it you know." The alcohol tainted voice whispered, even closer than before. "It was her fault, wanted to teach him a lesson for not paying enough attention to her." The grip tightened and Heracles gasped in pain. "Well guess who paid the price because dear mama Greece felt insecure about her husband." Sadiq snarled from behind him, Heracles gasped as teeth lightly nicked his neck. Heracles had no idea who he was talking about, was he talking about Rome and his mother?

"She never suffered for what she did to me." Sadiq continued, his other hand moving from Heracles' neck to wrap around waist, pulling him close. "Guess she got away scot free, but she told you about it didn't she?" Heracles darted his eyes from side to side, seeking aid.

There was no one in the halls, he was helpless.

No, he was no longer helpless he knew that, he could fight. He tensed his muscles and prepared to try and break away.

"Try to run," The drunken nation behind him slurred, "and I'll smash everything at Delphi." Sadiq muttered coldly.

Heracles froze and closed his eyes at that. He would never let something happen to his mother's ruins if he could stop it. He would always be helpless as long as Sadiq ruled over his lands. He couldn't run, and he wouldn't scream.

He held true to both vows that night.

()()()

Sadiq opened his eyes slowly, squinting at the daylight that poured through his window. He couldn't remember a thing from the night before. His last memory was leaving his study to find another bottle, after that darkness. Suppressing a groan at his headache, he rolled over and unto his other side, only to come face to face with what had happened last night.

Heracles lay on the other side of the bed, his hands tied to the bed post with a ribbon, preventing him from leaving but he was as far away from Sadiq as the ribbon would permit. His clothes were torn and his closed eyes were puffy from crying, the sheets and pillows near his head soaked with tears.

Sadiq's mouth widened with horror at what he had done. Scrambling away from the sleeping form, he fell onto the floor and continued backing away; stopping only once he had reached the wall.

What had he done?

**Wow, just wow. I wanted to avoid bumping it up to M but doubt that it's still in the teen rating after this. 3 or 4 more chapters to go, yay were almost done. I know I know, Greece said Byzantine was his mother but! I have a plan. Read and Review.**


	11. Chapter 11

**And so we begin the endgame, one more chapter and the epilogue. I do not own Hetalia.**

Glass, shattered and lying on the carpet. Each was its own piece, independent of the whole and reflecting Sadiq's face back at him from a thousand frames. How poetic he thought bitterly.

Sadiq stared at the shattered glass for a moment longer before turning his gaze back upward to regard what was once a glass case. The case had once held the cross taken from the Hagia Sophia, now it lay broken and empty, the cross missing. His study seemed somehow emptier without the cold cross, as though the item had somehow made the room feel whole, made Turkey feel whole. Now it was gone, its flimsy shield shattered beneath the blunt force of hatred.

He didn't need to look for the one who did it, he knew he would never find him. Greece was gone, he had left a short while ago. The specifics eluded the now quiet empire as he had fled his estate shortly after the... incident. Was that what he was calling it now? It somehow felt less guilty, but it did not change the truth.

His hand drifted to the fez perched on his head, idly adjusting the headpiece though he knew that nothing was wrong with it. It was but another thing that he had changed about himself. Where once regal white robes draped over his form, a green military uniform sat instead as it tightly hugged his muscular form. The only thing that had not changed was his mask. It sat astride his face as ever, no matter his age the mask had been there in one form or other. Sadiq brought his hand up to the blank visage, tracing the contours of the mask though he refused to break his gaze from the case before him.

He looked back down to the glass shards scattered on the carpet. Examining them closely, he noticed several small red stains interlaced between them, the scarlet liquid having settled into the Persian carpet after the act of the frames destruction.

He used his own fists to break the glass, Sadiq thought idly as he brought his gaze back up to the empty frame. He felt as empty as the case, once Greece had left he barely felt like rising in the morning. He still owned the young nation, he knew that, Greece had merely fled from him for the time being. Normally he would have gone out searching for the boy, just as he had with Bulgaria or whenever the Greek had run away before. Riding him down and lashing him with a cane until he felt the lesson learned to his satisfaction.

But he had not, he knew that any punishment he unleashed now would pale in comparison to what he had done during the incident. He felt a shiver crawl up his spine and didn't even bother to repress it as it crawled throughout his form, the chill of his shame coursing through him like the blood in his veins. The shiver soon faded, but the memories, though fragmented, remained in the forefront of his mind.

He tried to distract himself with other thoughts. Where was Gupta? Likely in his room, he didn't think Greece had told the other boy about what had happened. A vicious circle, Sadiq supposed.

He wasn't sure why this act bothered him so much, he thought as his mind drifted back to the topic he would rather bury. It had hardly been the first time he had taken advantage of another nation in such a way, maybe because it seemed like it would be the last time he would be able to. No, there was always Egypt though he balked at the mere thought, he saw the young Egyptian as more of a son than anything though no doubt the other nation would scorn such a thought.

Ah Byzantine, did you ever have...this... problem...

It hit him then. No, Byzantine had not had this problem, because Turkey had been Greece in their situation. Though he would hardly call the deceased empire warm and cheerful, he had only mind fucked him, not physically. Odd, that was almost comforting. Acclimation, he believed such a situation could be termed.

Were all the tortures he had forced upon the Greek some sort of misplaced anger at his previous guardian?

Turkey looked back to the shattered glass. What he had done was inexcusable, mainly because his reason had been revenge, not punishment. Then again, perhaps what the Greek was planning to do would justify it, even though it likely would cause it.

The only question was, would Sadiq be able to fight back when it came to it, or would guilt stay his hand.

()()()

Heracles sat hunched over on the beach, his head buried in his knees and his emerald eyes staring unblinkingly at the metallic cross across his lap. The seas waves gently lapped at his feet as though they could soothe his troubled soul and scarred psyche.

It was futile however; nothing so simple could take away his pain. He clutched the cross even closer, his knuckles turning white at his grip on the lifeline in his hands. He had taken the cross from the Turks study; he hadn't deserved any items of such significance to Greece's culture on display like that.

He felt his grip loosen on the cross, he couldn't do anything, and he was weak. Sadiq had shown him that without a doubt, forced him to face his own frailty. He was far too aware of where that weakness stemmed from; it was ironically what gave him the most security as well.

His mother.

She made him weak, for as long as the Turk occupied his nation, he was at his mercy. He knew his running had been childish, it was futile for the empire would eventually come for him with whip and chain and take him back to his 'home', if such a term could describe the cold palace he was forced to reside in. It didn't make it any easier.

"What's this? What are you doing out here all alone?" Heracles lifted his head to see who had spoken, curiosity momentarily overwhelming his self pity. Standing before him was a somewhat short man, messy blonde hair sat atop his head while a pair of almost obscenely large eyebrows lay on his forehead. Brilliant emerald eyes stared back at Heracles curiously while a somewhat elaborate military uniform draped his form, naval by the appearance of medals and the loose blue and white fabric adorned with sashes and the ilk.

"Well lad, who are you and what are you doing out here alone?" The voice held power and the strength to back it up, a voice that led the world and expected to be obeyed. It was like Sadiq's from long ago, before all the mess began with the losses and the fruitless wars. However, while Sadiq's voice held power and used force to be obeyed, the man's had a softer undercurrent as though he would prefer mutual co-operation rather than force to get his way.

"Wait a tic, you look familiar." The blonde man said in a far way voice as though trying to recall some distant memory as he stared at the fish tail curl that sprouted from the Greeks head. "... Crusades..." he said idly as though the memory was present, but fractured by time.

The blonde shook his head before flashing a smile to him. "Sorry about that, happens sometimes. Any way lad, tell me what your name is? Don't you have any manners?" He said the last part jokingly, causing Heracles to give a slight smile. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"My name is Heracles." The Greek mumbled. The man gave him an intent stare at that, his eyes piercing Heracles' own.

"I knew it, I do know you, you're Greece right?" The man said carefully. Greece blinked twice as he stared back, the man knew he was a nation, which meant...

"Who are you?" It was now Heracles' turn to ask that question. The blonde gave a confidant smile and his eyes glinted in pride.

"I, my dear boy, am England, the empire where the sun never sets." He declared proudly before glancing around. "Where is Turkey, surely he didn't leave you alone." Greece blinked again before returning to his knees and staring at the cross in depression.

"I ran away." He mumbled into his arms. England said nothing for a minute before approaching and sitting next to him in the sand, leaning back onto his hand sand basking in the sun.

"Did he go that far?" He asked after a short silence, his tone comforting. Heracles stiffened, answering the question clearer than his words ever could. England nodded to himself before reaching across and placing a comforting hand on the Greeks shoulder, a flicker of cold calculation jumping across his face before disappearing soon after to be replaced by friendliness and warmth.

"It wasn't your fault." England said soothingly, rubbing his hand on the boys shoulder, continuing until Heracles relaxed, slowly but doing so nevertheless. "You are not to blame." He reiterated, comforting the boy some more. Greece slowly looked up at him, a pained look on his face, but hope radiating from his expression. So innocent, so honest, so vulnerable.

So easy.

"Do you want to be free?" England asked, putting on an expression of genuine concern. Heracles watched the expression before nodding slowly, careful to trust again.

"I do." He said simply before looking away. "But, I can't, I don't know how to get away for good." Heracles muttered, tears stinging the corner of his eyes. England slowly let a smile cross his features before standing and walking before the boy. He stood in front of Heracles before extending his hand.

"I'll help." England said, radiating power and compassion, he may as well be crying crocodile tears as well for the poor boys plight. The hopeful look the Greek gave him was almost enough to melt his heart, almost.

"You will?"

"Of course," England said as he held his hand forward, "you can be free." Heracles stared with wide eyes before suspicion cast itself over his face.

"What do you want in return?" He asked cautiously. England merely smiled as though the price was nothing of note.

"Only what the Turk wanted, but given freely should you succeed." He said casually, but with a soothing tone. Greece nearly snatched his hand that had been slowly reaching forward, nearly. He considered the offer; he would be free from Turkey, but was the price too much?

Perhaps it was, but Greece was still young, he was at his most vulnerable and all that he wanted was but a handshake away and to be given freely instead of taken with tears and the stench of alcohol was tempting.

Greece took the hand and was pulled to his feet, helped to stand on his own by the empire before him.

()()()

"Where were you?" Turkey said harshly, though his tone was more directed to the man who had come with his charge than Greece himself. Greece flinched all the same and England merely placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the corner of the oceanic empires lip turning into a twisted parody of a smile.

"Go on, tell him. I'm right here for you." The Englishman whispered to the Greek. Sadiq felt himself suddenly grow very cold at those words, and the likely implications. They were standing at the gate of Turkey's palace, him at the gatehouse and the pair before him. Heracles said nothing for a moment, gathering his courage but when he did; his eyes were aflame with hatred and his voice venomous.

"I'm declaring my independence." He declared spitefully, his shoulders set with resolve and the metal cross in his hand held tightly.

No no no no! Sadiq couldn't let this happen, not when Heracles was so vulnerable that he would have agreed to anything, but what could he do? Turkey wanted to grab the younger nation and drag him inside, hide him away from the terrors of the world once again but the Englishman forestalled him, his presence a fearsome shield for the Greek to use. He knew however that he would never be able to anyway, the bond that he had shared with the Greek was broken, severed by him much to his chagrin.

"He's only using you." Sadiq bit out, never straying from the gatehouse while he spoke as though rooted in place. "He won't help if you start to fail, he'll let you fall without a look back." He said with fury at the boy's foolishness at trusting the other empire. But then again, who had pushed him there?

"Then I'll have to succeed." Heracles shouted, all timidity gone from him as he railed at his former jailor. "I'll become my own nation, try and stop me! You can't do anything worse than you have already done." Sadiq said nothing, the words cutting deeper than swords that would soon be bared and cooling his fury like a bucket of ice water over a flame. He had no defence against the accusations, so instead turned to the smirking maritime empire.

"And what do you get out of this?" He spat, his rage returning tenfold at the knowledge that Greece would be at the mercy of this man. He would be beyond any protection he could give, and that thought frightened him more than anything.

"I will gain an ally of course," England said warmly before his tone became chillier than ice, "and weaken an enemy." He finished with a glare. And lose nothing in doing so, Sadiq finished for the other empire silently.

"There's always more of a price with these deals." Turkey declared bitterly. A slow lewd smile spread over Englands face as he glanced to Greece, who still stared bitterly at the Turk. Sadiq felt his blood suddenly run cold at the meaning behind the look.

He was about to shout again, warn Greece, threaten him again until he understood when the Englishman turned around, Greece following suit. Sadiq stood there, frozen and silent, and watched as they walked away, helpless to stop them with words or actions till they were out of sight.

"_Of course, it took a great deal of effort to conquer your former empire, but then, no empire reigns forever," he pointed at the bleeding man, "Byzantium." Sadiq grinned widely, relishing how the former empire flinched at his words._

"_A lesson you would *Cough hack* do well to remember as well."_

It appeared that it was not Byzantine who had failed as the teacher; rather Turkey had failed as the student. He had failed to learn, and Greece was going to pay the price.

The irony made him fall to his knees and cry before the setting sun.

When the time finally came for him to try and stop the Greek from leaving, he found he didn't have the strength or will to make him stay.

**Ah sucky ending, oh well.**


End file.
